


Two or Three Thirds Whole

by Whedonista93



Series: Thrice Marked [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Other, Rare Pairings, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier and William the Bloody... Buffy sees this meeting going very well or very badly, with no in between.</p><p>Or, all the possible outcomes of Bucky and Spike meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Canon

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is a stand-alone alternate conclusion of the "Thrice Marked" series. Pick your favorite and roll with it! ;)

“Your dame is a force to be reckoned with, Buck.” Steve said as he essentially dragged himself off the mat, Buffy still going solo, executing a complicated series of kicks.

 

Bucky laughed brightly, “Told ya the workout was worth gettin’ over the fact you’re tryin’ to hit a girl.”

 

“You were right, jerk. A few of these bruises might even last more than the day.” Steve grumbled.

 

A low chuckle sounded behind them, “Not to make you feel like any more of a sod, Captain, but she was pulling her punches.”

 

Both super soldiers heads snapped toward the unfamiliar British drawl, but before either could react to the stranger in the facility, a streak of blonde flew past them, and in a blur the newcomer was on the floor, clutching a bleeding, very apparently broken nose, pupils already dilated in a manner suggesting a concussion.

 

He rolled his head to the side and spat a mouthful of blood on the mat before smirking up at the super soldiers, “ _ That’s  _ what it looks like when she’s not holding back.” Then he turned a glare up at Buffy, “What the bloody hell was that for, woman?!”

 

Buffy shrugged, utterly unrepentant. “For not telling me you were coming.”

 

He shook his head and accepted the hand she offered him up, “Remind me it’s a terrible idea to surprise you, pet.”

 

“Isn’t that what I just did?” Buffy smiled innocently as she yanked him into a hug that lasted a little longer than Bucky was comfortable with.

 

He turned toward the other two men, arm still slung around the Slayer’s shoulders, “So which one is he, then?”

 

Buffy tensed, and Bucky nearly lunged, metal hand fisting, “Paws off my girl, Captain Peroxide, or we’ll see how tough you really are.”

 

Steve put a restraining hand on Bucky’s arm and the still unidentified man’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked down at Buffy in dismay, “‘Captain Peroxide’... you just  _ had _ to let him hang out with Xander, didn’t you?” 

 

Buffy relaxed and pouted up at him, “Who blabbed, anyway?”

 

An unrepentant grin, “Lil’ Bit.”

 

Buffy groaned, “Brat.”

 

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, “Buffy?”

 

Instead of offering an explanation, Buffy elbowed the new guy in the ribs, hard, judging by the expression on his face.

 

He looked Bucky in the eyes, calculating, then shrugged with a very ‘Fuck it’ air, “She was mine first, mate.”

 

Bucky stilled, surprise clear on his features, as his second Mark tingled, ever so slightly, more of an acknowledgement of a bond lost that before it was created than anything else. He looked searchingly at Buffy.

 

Buffy nodded, “Buck, this is Spike. Spike, meet Bucky.”

 

Steve finally put the whole situation together, “He is… was, your…”

 

“Yeah.” Bucky finally managed. “Was.”

 

“You ever hurt her,” Spike stared at him unerringly, “what I’ll do to you will make you wish I had just killed you nice and slow. Got it?”

 


	2. Never Gone, Not Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> None of their Marks faded. Buffy was so angry with Spike for not telling her right away that he was "alive" that she told him to stay away. She didn’t tell him when she met Bucky, and she had never told Bucky about meeting and knowing Spike.

“I need Spike.” Buffy wasted no time when Angel picked up the phone.

 

“Sorry?” Angel sounded confused.

 

“Spike.” Buffy repeated. “How soon can you have him in New York?”

 

“Buffy…” Angel hesitated, “You know that vicious circle of getting so mad at someone for getting mad at you…”

 

“Angel, please…” Buffy’s voice broke a little. “You don’t have to tell him why. Just get him here. We  _ need _ him.”

 

“You found your Third.” Angel realized.

 

“We’re unstable.” Buffy sniffled.

 

“I’ll get him there, but it’s on you once I do.”

 

“Thank you, Angel.”

 

“Buff…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“He’s not as okay as he’s gonna try and play off.” Angel said quietly before the line went dead.

\----------------------------------

“C’mon, doll, just tell me where you’re dragging me.” Bucky said, for at least the third time since they’d left the Avengers facility.

 

“Nope.” Buffy popped the the ‘p’, “It’s a surprise.”

 

“Then why are you so damn twitchy and nervous?”

 

“Uh… ‘cause I can’t promise it’s gonna feel like a good surprise at first…”

 

“Buffy…”

 

“Just trust me, please?” green eyes he was powerless against begged him.

 

He huffed out a frustrated breath. “Fine.”

\---------------------------------------------

  
“You wanted to surprise me with a trip to a seedy bar?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow dubiously.

 

Buffy opened her mouth to answer before spotting something over his shoulder, “Meep”ing quite adorably and vaulting under the bar. Bucky turned toward the bar casually and lifted his hand for a beer, subtly side eyeing the direction whatever had made Buffy vanish was. A tall, pale, slim figure with bleached blonde hair in a trenchcoat took a seat in a dim back corner before letting his gaze roam over the place. When his eyes met Bucky’s, he all but leered - in a purely appreciative manner, if Bucky was feeling generous, which he was. Still unclear on Buffy’s endgame, Bucky just tipped his chin and his beer in the man’s direction before pretending to turn his attention back to the television above the bar. Someone opened a back door and a gust of fresh air blew through the stale bar. The stranger’s nostrils flared and he stiffened in Bucky’s peripheral. 

 

Less than a minute later, the stranger was at Bucky’s elbow. Bucky hadn’t even seen the man move. He felt Buffy tense next to his leg under the bar.

 

A smooth British accent washed over him, “Don’t take offense if you don’t swing my way, mate, but throw in a bit of sunshine and you’re what a bloke’s wet dreams are made of.”

 

Bucky froze. Buffy tensed further, and realization washed over Bucky - along with the observation that their Third was a vampire, which should not be fucking possible. He took a deep breath, “Way I hear it, that bit of sunshine would make it pretty damn impossible for either of us to get it up long enough for a wet dream. Pile of ash doesn’t really do it for me.”

 

Blondie threw his head and laughed. When it finally subsided, he dropped onto the stool next to Bucky and eyed him up and down speculatively.

 

His eyes never left Bucky’s as he addressed Buffy, “Miss me, pet?”

 

Buffy unfolded herself from under the bar and moved around Bucky to insert herself between the two men, facing Spike. She opened and closed her mouth three times before finally meeting Spike’s eyes - and Bucky could see the tears in hers - “I’m sorry.” she said, so quietly any average human would have missed it, “For all of it, I’m sorry.”

 

Spike knew, and knew Buffy knew, and knew their Third probably had a vague idea, that they would all have to have a very long talk later, but now wasn’t the time.

 

Spike reached out and drew her into his arms, standing between his legs and pressed against his chest, “Forgave you a long time ago, luv.”

 

Buffy melted against him. Bucky thought he would be jealous when they met their Third. But as Buffy climbed into the vampire’s lap and plastered her lips to his, and as Bucky watched, initiated a gentle duel of tongues, he felt nothing but a strong surge of lust and a serious priority of getting both blondes somewhere private. Almost subconsciously, he also registered that this was clearly not a first kiss, and that his soulmates already had a history, which Buffy had neglected to share with him. That last thought dimmed his lust, if only slightly.

 

With his revelation, Bucky had looked away without noticing. He only realized it when he heard Buffy’s voice again.

 

“Come home with us.” Buffy invited, tone slightly desperate.

 

“Promise it ain’t just ‘cause you need me. Ain’t just for some kind of stability?” Spike’s voice was broken in a way Bucky could empathize with only too well.

 

Buffy shook her head against his, their foreheads still resting against each other, “I miss you. I want you. I love you.”

 

“And him?” Spike looked up to meet Bucky’s eyes. Buffy faced him as well.

 

“We need you.” Spike’s face fell at Bucky’s blunt answer, and Bucky pushed on immediately, “Just like you need us. But we want you too. Come home with us. Let us prove it.”

 

The pure relief that washed across the vampire’s face was gone in an instant, but both his soulmates caught it. He stood up with Buffy still in his lap, Buffy just shrugged and ducked under one of his arms in a rather acrobatic maneuver, her legs never leaving his waist, and positioning herself in a piggyback. Both men grinned at her in amusement.

 

Spike gestured to the door. “Lead the way.”

 

“You just wanna ogle his ass.” Buffy smiled against Spike’s ear, her eyes on Bucky’s.

 

“Tell me you don’t, pet.” Spike fired back.

 

“No can do.” Buffy replied cheerfully.

 

Bucky led the way back to the Avengers facility. Buffy and Spike both ogled his ass unashamedly the whole way.

 

Spike stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the facility, “Of course we got ourselves hitched to a bloody superhero.”

 

“I ain’t a hero.” Bucky said quietly, and kept moving before either could respond.

Buffy didn’t leave Spike’s back until they were safely ensconced in their private quarters, and then, before Bucky could even fully register his surroundings, strong hands and smooth lips and blonde hair came at him from either side.

  
He allowed himself to be backed against the door and peeled out of half his clothes before he managed to pant out, “We need to talk.” Buffy did something with her tongue and Spike did something with his hand that completely derailed any more coherent thought for several minutes. “Tomorrow. We need to talk tomorrow.”


	3. Fight, Fume, Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy never found out Spike was alive. The fact that his Mark never faded after he died was something viewed as an anomaly - just like every other aspect of their bond.

“You ever wonder why his Mark’s never faded?” Bucky asked quietly, tracing the Words around her wrist.

Buffy snuggled impossibly closer and let her hand drift to Bucky’s second Mark on the small of his back and smiled a little - it never, even in the middle of such a serious moment, failed to amuse her that Spike’s Mark on Bucky was essentially a tramp stamp - and she shrugged. “Maybe something to do with him not actually being technically alive before he died? I try not to think about it.”

\-----

Fight, fume, and fuck. It was an all too familiar pattern. Bucky and Buffy had coasted through a few months of sickeningly sweet honeymoon stage before settling into a pattern Buffy had already lived through with Spike.

 

Bucky sat on the couch in Steve’s apartment, sporting a black eye and a bloody lip, elbows on his knees and head hung dejectedly. Buffy sat on the coffee table in front of him, shirt sleeve ripped and wincing every time she shifted enough to put any pressure on her right ankle.

 

“What are we doing wrong, doll?” Bucky asked quietly, finally looking up at her.

 

Tears shone in her eyes, “I don’t know.”

\-----

Two weeks later, chasing some slimeball/robot thing down a Los Angeles alleyway, they got their answer. 

 

“Well ain’t you an ugly bugger.” a familiar voice came from the far end of the alley the creature was attempting to hide in.

Buffy froze, and noticing her halt, so did Bucky. His eyes shot a silent question at her. Buffy shook her head and tried to fight off the encroaching panic, instead opting for her usual vault-in-head-first-at-full-speed method. By the time she followed the curve into the end of the alley, the monster was sparking and twitching at the feet of the body that carried that familiar voice. 

 

Buffy froze, dead still, and Bucky took the opportunity to size up the man that had his girl so out of sorts. Decked head to toe in black with a nearly floor length duster, the man had a fighters build and bleached blonde hair and… fangs. Descriptions and stories, the few he has managed to pry out of Buffy about their Third, came flooding back to his mind. But that… it was impossible, wasn’t it? He had died…

 

“You bastard!” Buffy exclaimed, fists already flying by the time she reached him. Past the initial utter shock on his face and instinctive block of the first blow, the guy didn’t do anything. He just stood there and let Buffy beat him to a bloody pulp - pulled himself up off the ground when she knocked him down, and let her keep going - right up until Buffy collapsed herself, heaving sobs, at which point he dropped to the ground and gathered her into his arms, right into his lap, and held her while she cried. Bucky stood there, feeling helpless, and also feeling absolutely certain this was their supposed-to-be-dead Third.

 

Spike held Buffy, shuddering and sobbing in his arms, ignoring the cracked ribs and oozing blood, and came to the conclusion that every reason he had used to convince himself to stay away had been bloody stupid and he would spend the rest of her days making all their lost time up to her if she would let him. Nothing was worth the one ray of sunshine in his life being so bloody devastated and shuddering in the dark. A shuffling caught his attention and his eyes locked with the man who had run in with Buffy.

 

Blue eyes bore into his unerringly, “You’re lucky it was our gal that knew you before, because I would’ve fuckin’ killed my guy for steppin’ out on me like that. Even if it meant a lifetime of the only action my dick seeing was my right hand.”

 

Buffy burst out laughing against Spike’s chest. “I had forgotten what his mark on you said…” she looked up at Bucky, “Why would you add that last part? Seriously?”

 

Bucky shrugged, suddenly very sheepish looking.

 

“Don’t suppose you wanna tell me what I’m supposed to say back to him, luv?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, the two of you can perv off each other just fine without my help.”

 

Spike grinned and shrugged, at least he knew whatever was about to come out of his own mouth would be suitably crude, “How ‘bout a lifetime of  _ my _ right hand?”

  
Bucky smirked, “Maybe after a shower… and a real long time of you apologizin’ to our girl.”


	4. Canon Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate ending extending from the "Thrice Marked" canon

“Do you want to meet him?” Buffy asked, out of the blue, one day about five months after she’d officially moved into the Avengers facility. She and Bucky had their own apartment and everything. New York was as good a place as any to set up Slayer headquarters in the States now that there were no active Hellmouths left in the country. 

 

“Do you want me to?” Bucky asked slowly.

 

Buffy shrugged, “I don’t know. I just thought you might want to… well, Dawnie mentioned I should maybe offer and… just forget I said anything. Okay?”

 

Bucky chuckled and used one finger to lift her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’d love to meet him, doll.”

 

Buffy’s brilliant smile washed away any doubts he might have had. 

\----

Tony’s rebuilt Malibu mansion was… ridiculously incredible. And it had a private beach. Buffy was comfortably seated on the back deck with her feet in Bucky’s lap, admiring the stars and listening to the waves, when Spike came striding up off the beach like he owned it.

 

He grinned down at her, “Posh digs, pet.”

 

She grinned back, “Courtesy of Tony Stark.”

 

He raised an eyebrow, “Moving up in the world, are we, luv?”

 

Buffy, being the mature adult she was, poked her tongue out at him in response.

 

He didn’t even bother trying to roll his eyes at her, “You gonna give a bloke a proper hello?” he asked, opening her arms. 

 

Buffy pushed herself up and lunged herself at him. He caught her and pulled her close without so much as swaying backward.

 

Bucky smiled softly, a gentle, warm feeling filling him at the sight. 

 

Spike finally pushed her back enough to see her face without having to let her go, “So, pet… what’s so all-fired important you had call in favors with Tony bloody Stark and fly out here just to see me?”

 

“I can’t just want to see you?” Buffy asked, green eyes wide with innocence that both men snorted at.

 

Bucky’s snort drew Spike’s attention, “Who’s this then?”

 

“Ask him yourself.” Buffy responded.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow at her but turned to Bucky.

 

Bucky raised an eyebrow back, and smirked like he knew exactly what Spike was going to say. Spike had a sudden suspicion and a quick peek at Buffy’s face - all anxious anticipation - all but confirmed it.

 

Spike nodded and squared his shoulders, turning Buffy back toward the other man, but leaving an arm around her shoulders and met Bucky’s eyes. “Sorry I ain’t what you hoped for.”

  
  


Suddenly, Bucky was in front of him, one arm snaked around Buffy’s waist, and bringing a metal hand up to rest on Spike’s shoulder, “What if we want you anyway?”

 

Buffy’s sharp intake of breath dragged both men’s attention to her.

  
Bucky continued, “Look at her face. She still loves ya. And anyone Buffy loves… well, I can’t help but love ‘em too.” 


	5. Another Canon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final installation - a third option extending from "Thrice Marked" canon ending

 

“Spike?!” Buffy exclaimed.

 

The vampire spun to face her with a broad grin, “Slayer.”

 

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look stern, “What are you doing lurking around dark alleys in New York?”

 

“Could ask you the same.”

 

“You could, but at least I have excuse of actually living in New York.”

 

Spike shrugged, “Some vision of something or other going down. Bloody cryptic lot, tellers are. Just insisted I had to be here.”

 

Buffy shrugged, “Coffee? Since you don’t actually have anywhere specific to be or anything specific to do?”

 

“Tea?”

 

Buffy groaned, “Sometimes you are _so_ British.”

\---

“Who’s the bloke?” Spike asked casually over his steaming styrofoam tea cup.

 

Buffy startled. “Huh?”

 

“The bloke, luv. You keep smiling at your bloody phone.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “I didn’t tell you. I can’t believe I didn’t tell you.”

 

Spike stared at her for nearly a full minute before it dawned on him, “You met him.”

 

Buffy stood and held a hand out, “Come with me.”

\---

“Bucky?” Buffy called, dragging Spike into an apartment in Brooklyn.

 

“Kitchen!” The response came immediately.

 

If the dark-haired, blue-eyed bloke (Bucky, Buffy had called him) at the kitchen sink was surprised by Buffy dragging in random blokes, he didn’t show it.

 

“Can’t say as you’ve ever brought a vamp home that wasn’t ash in your hair.” Bucky said mildly.

 

Buffy shrugged, “Exceptions to every rule.”

 

“I can only think of two excep -” Bucky stopped and looked at Spike more closely.

 

When he didn’t say anything, Spike took the initiative, “How’d you call vampire, mate? ‘Cause you sure as hell ain’t a Slayer.”

 

“No heartbeat, but your blood still rushes south at the sight of a pretty dame… well, maybe not just any dame, but this one for sure.” Bucky answered somewhat absently.

  
Suddenly, all three gasped. Buffy finally let go of Spike’s hand to grab her left wrist. Bucky’s hand flew to his chest. And Spike tried to grip his left forearm and his left wrist simultaneously with his right hand. All coverings blocking Marks from sight were quickly shed. And there, stark black against pale skin where only scars had remained before, were Marks still destined to Bond three as one.


End file.
